


Beach Day

by 0Rocky41_7



Category: Rose Under Fire - Elizabeth Wein
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Heavy domesticity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 02:39:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1209670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0Rocky41_7/pseuds/0Rocky41_7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose decides it's high time she and Róża carried out their plan to go to the beach. Róża isn't sure she's so keen on actually going through with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beach Day

                Rose had told so many stories about the Lublin transport escaping from Ravensbruck via Nick’s plane and going to the beach. She’d talked endlessly about the swimsuits they’d all wear, with their toenails painted Cherry Soda red and sandwiches tucked into a basket with orange juice for them to have when they got there. A checkered blanket to spread over the sand and fluffy blue towels to wrap around themselves when they tired of splashing each other and went to retire on the warm beach. In talking of it so much, in such great, varying detail, it had become the sort of dream no one actually _aspires_ to, but simply enjoys hearing about. Like overworked mothers who talk about running off and leaving their dull husbands and bratty children to become Hollywood stars. It’s not something real or tangible, but a wonderful opium to escape into. That’s what Rose’s stories had been for the Lublin transport and the Rabbits and everyone else who’d listened—opium. And God knew those women had needed a nice drag of opium.

                So when Rosie Justice came prancing into her and Róża’s little rented house one late May morning with her paycheck she’d just picked up and declared they were going to buy swimsuits, Róża just laughed.

                “You’re crazy, Rose,” she said, shaking her head and going back to the socks she was knitting. Róża had never struck Rose as one with the patience for knitting, but Róża said it occupied her hands and kept her mind from thinking too much sometimes.

                “No, I’m serious,” Rose said. “Get up Róża; we’re going shopping.” She swept into the bathroom to check and see if they had any nail polish of the right shade; she couldn’t remember.

                “For what?” Róża called after her, not moving from where she was stretched out on the couch.

                “Swimsuits, of course!” Rose replied, rifling around beneath the sink and finding—what luck!—a bottle of her favorite nail polish.

                “You’re crazy, Rose,” Róża said again, still not budging.

                “I mean it Różyczka,” Rose said, re-entering the tiny living room and placing her fists on her hips. Róża snorted. “It’ll be good for you! For both of us.”

                “Right away, Mrs. Roosevelt,” Róża said in a mocking voice.

                “Róża!” Rose grabbed her girlfriend’s arm and pulled on it, making Róża swear as her knitting was disturbed.

                “You get up Róża, right now! We’re going shopping and we’re going to have fun!” But Róża resisted and so Rose stopped tugging her arm and instead started peppering kisses on her face and neck. “Come on Róża, we’ll have a good time,” she insisted. After a long few minutes of pleading, Róża agreed.

                “If it’ll get you off my back,” was Róża’s reasoning. Rose acted triumphant nonetheless and took Róża out. It was the first summer they’d spent together in Edinburgh and Rose was determined to carry out their far-fetched plans of going to the beach, if for Elodie, for Karolina, for all of them who would never get the chance. She certainly wasn’t going to let Róża’s attitude stop her.

                The petite rented house took up most of the income the two girls made, so there was no extra room for a car. They had a bike, but only one, so when they went places together, it was walking or the trolly. This time it was both; Rose had worked out the schedule several days ahead of time. She’d been planning this little trip, in the back of her mind, since she and Róża had gotten the house together. As always, she gave Róża a seat on the trolly and stood herself since there was little room. She held Róża’s hand anyway and occasionally smiled over at her. Róża rolled her eyes and shook her head, but a smile twitched on her plump pink lips. Sometimes Rose really did marvel at how doll-like Róża was. Even after everything that had been done to her—and Rose knew that Róża would never fully recover—she was still beautiful. Sometimes enough to give Rose a little twinge of jealousy. But it was always overcome with how much she adored the Pole.

                When they got into town, Rose pulled Róża along to one of the nice (sadly not too nice though; they weren’t exactly rolling in cash and Rose didn’t want to ask Aunt Edie for anything silly like this) shops and they went right to the swimsuit section.            

                “Róża, look at this one!” she said, holding up a blue and white stripped swimsuit modeled after old sailor uniforms.

                “Blue is certainly not my color,” Róża said, leafing half-heartedly through the others.

                “I think it would look lovely on you,” Rose asserted, holding it up to Róża from a safe distance.

                “You should try it on yourself,” Róża said, plucking at the shoulder strap of a green swimsuit. She didn’t look up at Rose and there was a distinct lack of a jab in her words.

                “We’ll try them on together,” Rose decided, lowering the sailor swimsuit. She selected several for each of them, despite Róża’s appalling lack of enthusiasm for all of them and then coaxed her girlfriend into the changing room. Rose stripped and changed first, hoping to get Róża into the mood. She modeled a red suit for Róża. “What do you think, Różyczka?”

Róża gave a low whistle.              

                “Nick was an idiot,” she said. She managed a little smile and gave Rose a quick kiss. “You look great, Rose. Red is the perfect color for you.”

                “And we’re going to find your perfect color too,” Rose said, waving a yellow swimsuit at Róża. “Come on Różyczka, we said we would!” Róża sighed in a long-suffering way.

                “Dammit, Rosie,” she said, but she took the swimsuit and slowly peeled off her clothes to try it on. She looked in the mirror and wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. I hate yellow,” she said.

                “Then try a different one,” Rose said, picking up a black one and offering it to her. Both girls burst into poorly stifled snickers when Róża had it on.

                “I look like a call girl!” Róża exclaimed. She looked over at Rose and gave her the seductive look of a JC Penny model and covered her mouth with one hand. “Oh, sir,” she said in a breathy, overly-feminine voice. “I’ll give you a _special_ price.”

                “Róża!” Rose gave her a little shove and giggled.

                “You can’t shove a cripple!” Róża exclaimed, grabbing her walking stick to brandish it at Rose. She didn’t always bring it, but shopping usually required a lot of walking, so Rose usually convinced her to bring it, Just In Case.

                “You’re hardly a cripple,” Rose told her, “with the way you jump around on the bed when I’m trying to sleep and you want to do something!” Róża gave a wicked grin.

                “You knew me before, Rosie, it was your stupidity to share a house with me,” she cackled. “Besides, you’re usually up at the crack of dawn!”

                “So you must ruin the few times I do try to sleep late, huh?” Rose went over and grabbed Róża around the waist. “You’re the biggest pain in the neck, Różyczka,” she said.

                “But you love me anyway?” Róża gave her a winning smile.

                “I will if you try this on,” Rose said, reaching around her to pluck another swimsuit selection off the hook on the wall.

                “And you call _me_ a pain in the neck, Rose Justice?” But Róża nevertheless tried on the swimsuits Rose handed her. A few times they swapped until Rose found one that suited her. But Róża was still being picky (or so said Rose), so she took them to another shop, still in search of a swimsuit for Róża. After two more stops, Rose finally managed to convince Róża to buy a navy blue swimsuit with gold buttons on the front and a frill around the waist. She herself had taken and white stripped one, which Róża said made her look like the American flag.

                “You really do look wonderful, Róża,” Rose said, leaning over Róża’s shoulder as the Polish girl looked skeptically at her own reflection.

                “You have to say that,” Róża reminded her.

                “But it’s true,” Rose declared with a little smile. “I’ll have to watch you on the beach in case any Scottish boys get a bright idea!” She kissed Róża’s cheek. 

                “I’ll hit them with my cane if they do.” Róża always called it a cane and had joked to Rose when she got it that she was the world’s youngest old woman. Rose shook her head and smiled a bit more.

                “Oh, Róża. Get dressed and I’ll get the suit for you, okay?” She gave Róża’s shoulders a squeeze and slipped out of the changing room. Alone in front of the mirror, Róża turned this way and that, frowning at her reflection. She twisted each leg around, looking at the hideous gashes that ran down the back of each, and the ugly dents in the front of her shins. Her frown deepened and she regretted agreeing to come do this. It made Rose so happy though, and she had such a point…if Irina and Karolina and Elodie were with them, they’d be buying swimsuits. _But then_ , Roza thought, _I wouldn’t be the only Rabbit showing off her legs_. But Karolina’s hadn’t even been worth a photograph and Róża’s had gotten two. _Stop being a child,_ Róża told herself. She could whine and complain all day that her legs were worse than Karolina’s or any of the other Rabbits, but that wasn’t going to fix anything and Karolina was dead, so who had really gotten the shorter straw? Telling herself to get over herself, she hastily redressed and joined Rose out in the main part of the shop where she was waiting at the register with a bag for the swimsuit. Róża plopped it in and Rose held out her hand.

                “Let’s get home; I have to paint our nails before we go,” she said.

                “Paint our nails?” Róża echoed as they left the shop.

                “Of course!” Rose said. She’d had thought she’d need to learn to slow her step to keep up with Róża, but sometimes the young Pole walked with such feverish speed that it was Rose who had to struggle to keep up, especially when she had her walking stick to aid her. But today they took it slow; Róża almost seemed to be dragging her feet. “Cherry Soda, remember?” Róża let out another witchy cackle.

                “Holy shit Rose Justice, you are _something,”_ she said, shaking her head. “You have this all planned out, don’t you?”

                “I want it to be special,” Rose said softly, looking over at Róża. “It’s our first summer together and…it’s what we always said we’d do. I mean, I know Scotland isn’t Spain, but it’s what we’ve got. And I’d rather be here in Scotland with you than down in Spain alone.”

                “I’d rather be in Spain alone,” Róża exclaimed. “Can you imagine how warm the water would be?” Rose just shook her head and smiled because she was so _Róża_. She sure never sugarcoated anything.

                When they got back to the house, Rose indeed sat Róża on the sink in the bathroom and did her best to paint Róża’s toenails around Róża trying to kick her or stroke Rose’s face with her feet. When she was done, Róża insisted on returning the favor and painting Rose’s, but Rose knew she purposefully did a bad job and she aimed a kick of her own at the troublesome blonde.

                “I’m sorry, I’m just so clumsy,” Róża said even through her snickers. Rose scowled at her, but it looked more like a pout and Róża couldn’t take it seriously for the life of her. She kissed the instep of Rose’s foot and gave her an impish little smile that quelled any serious irritation Rose might’ve had with her. “Tell me a poem, Rosie,” she said as she went on painting Rose’s feet and making an attempt to fix up her clumsy strokes with varnish remover. Rose thought for a moment and then began to recite.

“I will be the gladdest thing  
  Under the sun!  
I will touch a hundred flowers  
  And not pick one.

“I will look at cliffs and clouds  
  With quiet eyes,  
Watch the wind bow down the grass,  
  And the grass rise.

“And when lights begin to show  
  Up from the town,  
I will mark which must be mine,  
  And then start down!” Róża smiled and listened peaceably as Rose spoke.

                “Edna St. Vincent Millay?” she guessed.

                “Yep,” Rose said with a nod. “That’s ‘Afternoon on a Hill’.”

                “Someday you’ll be famous like Millay!” Róża declared, letting go of Rose’s foot when she was all done with the nail polish.

                “I doubt it,” Rose said, swinging her feet to help them dry. She smiled a little. “But I don’t need to be; I’m happy the way things are.”

                “You’re so _good_ Rose, sometimes it makes me want to break a window just to do something bad,” Róża said, capping the nail varnish and remover. “I bet you were the prefect Girl Scout and had all your badges and never missed a meeting.”

                “Did _you_ ever miss a meeting, Róża?” Rose asked. Róża was silent a moment and Rose was almost afraid she’d asked something she shouldn’t have and that Róża wasn’t going to answer at all. But at last she said:

                “Once. I had the stomach flu.” Rose grinned.

                “Who’s the good girl now?” she asked in smug triumph. Róża responded by throwing a wet cotton ball—the one she’d used to clean up the excess polish on Rose’s toes—at her. Rose yelped and wobbled on the sink, but managed to keep her balance.

                “Oh shut up, Rosie,” Róża said. 

                When the nail polish was dry, the two girls put on their swimsuits and pulled sundresses on over them. They tugged on broad-brimmed sunhats and slathered on sunscreen. Rose packed them simple sandwiches and chips, along with two bottles of Coke for lunch. Róża couldn’t rag on the plan anymore because it was so easy to see that Rose was excited about it.

                _I’m doing this for you, Karolina,_ she thought. _You better be fucking grateful._

                But when it came time for them to actually leave, Róża couldn’t do it. And that’s what she said.

                “I can’t do it Rose!” she shouted. “I just can’t, okay? I can’t walk out there in this! It’s easy for you; you’re pretty and healthy and never went under Oberheuser’s knife! I can’t do it Rose Justice!” She choked on the words because Róża was nothing if not stupidly brave and right now she felt like a coward. Rose was taken aback; Róża was always so confident and sure of herself it had never occurred to her that Róża might be self-conscious about being seen in a swimsuit. For a moment she just stood at the door, one hand still on the knob, sun creeping through the space between the edge of the door and the frame, blinking at Róża, who was glaring at her like she expected Rose to try to force her out.

                “Róża…” She let go of the door and walked over to her.

                “Don’t ‘Róża’ me!” the Pole snapped, mimicking Rose’s sympathetic tone in a simpering voice. She drew up defensively. “It’s all fun and nice to talk about doing such things, but we would have said we’d walk on the moon back then just to feel like we’d ever _do_ anything!”

                “Róża, do you even understand how beautiful you are?” Rose asked, hurt clear on her face that Róża would think such terrible things about herself.

                “Stop it!” Róża covered her ears. “You’re my girlfriend Rose, you have to say things like that! Or maybe you’re dumb and you actually believe them! Stop treating this trip like it’s going to do anything for Karolina or Elodie or any of the rest of them! They’re all dead Rose! They’re dead! And this isn’t going to bring them back or make them rest at peace or anything like that!”

                Stung, Rose halted in her approach. Then a muscle in her jaw twitched and suddenly she grabbed Róża’s shoulders—she had thought about hitting her like Irina had that one time, but she couldn’t bring herself to hit poor Róża.

                “Listen here, Róża,” she said. “You stop acting like a child this minute! I know you better than this; you’re not scared of anything, except flying! When did other people’s opinions ever mean anything to you? You stood up to that stinking camp director and told him you’d rather die than have another operation! And now you’re worried about what some people at some beach in Scotland might think about you?”

                “Stop taking the moral high ground,” Róża snarled. “Yeah, I shouldn’t fucking care what people think. So fucking _sue me_ Rose Justice. So I actually give a fuck what people think about me. It’s one thing when I’ve got nylons and a long skirt on, but this—I’m practically naked in it! And no, I don’t want a bunch of snot-nosed brats and their pasty, pretentious parents looking at my legs and gagging or curling their lips or thinking ‘that poor girl’. I just can’t deal with that, Rose.”

                “Róża.” Rose pulled her into an embrace, pressing her nose into Róża’s caramel-colored hair. “My darling little rose. When I first saw you in Nuremburg, I didn’t recognize you. You looked so _healthy._ So healthy and curvaceous and beautiful. Sometimes I look at you and I’m jealous, I swear.” Róża snorted.

                “Please Rose, you have nothing to be jealous of. But I’d be glad to cut some holes in your shins too, if you’d like to match,” she said, her tone as volatile as ever. Rose ignored her.

                “You look like a little porcelain doll; that’s how I described you—” She had been going to say ‘to Anna’, but recalling how much Róża hated Anna made her rethink that and she cut the sentence short. “Róża, who cares what your legs look like?” she asked. “Your face and your body are gorgeous and you’re an amazing person and that’s what matters. But anyone with half a brain can see past your scars and look at how thick and pretty your hair is, and how incredible your eyes are, and how soft and smooth your skin is. That’s to say nothing of your curves!” She ran her hands along Róża’s sides. “Róża I won’t make you go to the beach; I don’t want to upset you. But really—you are absolutely stunning.”

                For a long moment Róża was still in Rose’s arms, her jaw working as she tried to formulate something to say. At last she sank against Rose.

                “You’re an idiot, Rose,” she mumbled. Rose rubbed her back and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

                “Will you come swim with me, Róża?” she asked.

                “Fine, fine, I’ll come to the damn beach,” Róża said grouchily, pulling away from Rose. She hesitated as she reached for her towel. “If Lisette comes to visit, you better make her put on a swimsuit and come to the beach too.” Rose laughed.

                “I will,” she promised. She linked her arm with Róża’s and the two young women stepped into the sunlight, ready to at last complete their journey to the beach, which had begun, in a strange way, back in Ravensbruck.

This time they did take the bike and Rose had Róża sit on the handlebars, occasionally jerking them around just to make Rose wobble and nearly crash. Every time Rose would scold her and Róża would just laugh. But Rose couldn’t really be irked because Róża was in a good mood at last and she knew the temperamental girl always acted out when she was nervous. When they got to the beach, Róża leaped down and twirled around.

                “I think I look just like Katherine Hepburn, what do you think?” She posed for Rose jestingly.

                “I think you’re prettier,” Rose said, tugging on the brim of Róża’s sunhat on the way by.

                “You’re a terrible flatterer, Rose Justice,” Róża said, using an insult she’d heard in a movie they’d gone to see a few months before. It was now one she pulled frequently on Rose.

                “It’s not _my_ fault if you don’t believe me,” Rose said, grabbing the picnic blanket from the top of the basket, which was hanging of Róża’s arm. She marched down the sand until she found a spot suitably smooth and an acceptable distance from the water and spread the blanket out. Roza strolled over to join her and set the basket down. The beach was busy today, as it was a rare sunny day and the Scottish were taking advantage of it. The shrieks of children and yells of their mothers filled the air; sweethearts lounged together on their blankets and young ladies rubbed each other down with sunscreen.

                Rose slipped off her dress and sandals, folding the garment on the edge of the blanket, and looked over at Róża, clearly waiting for her to do the same. Róża pouted for a moment more, but knew she’d already been vanquished, and pulled the dress off over her head, replacing her hat when she’d gotten it off. Rose smiled.

                “See? It looks perfect on you, Róża,” she said, holding her hands out to the other girl. “Navy blue is definitely your color.”

                “I suppose,” Róża said flippantly, but she took Rose’s hands.

                “Come on, Różyczka.” Rose pulled her across the sand, down towards the water’s edge. Both girls shrieked when the cold water lapped over their toes and Róża loudly proclaimed that Spain would have been infinitely better—and only just stopped herself from swearing when Rose elbowed her and jerked her head towards the small children nearby. They separated and started to wade carefully into the chilly water. Glancing over at Róża, tip-toeing so fastidiously into the water, Rose couldn’t resist splashing her girlfriend. Róża screamed and didn’t resist the urge to curse like a sailor this time, though she kept it (mostly) to Polish for the benefit of the children.

                “You bitch!” She nearly tackled Rose into the water and both of them yipped as they tipped into the water. Róża dunked Rose beneath the waves a few times before she let the American surface and make a grab for her sodden hat, which was attempting to make a getaway on the riptide. Once she caught her breath, though, she was stifling giggles. “I can’t believe I agreed to come with you for this,” Róża grouched, crossing her arms and squinting at Rose.

                “You made it too tempting,” Rose defended herself. “Besides, I think you got me back quite fairly…” She shook her straw hat to get as much of the water off as she could before she settled it back on her head.

                “Not even enough,” Róża said. “You twat.” This was a word she had recently picked up from the local vernacular and leaning the true, vulgar meaning of it had not discouraged her attachment to it. A few children nearby giggled and one gasped. “What are you looking at?” Róża demanded, rounding on them. “You better watch your feet or the _topielce_ are going to drag you under the water and down to the bottom of the ocean!” The children yelped and scrambled away, though some of them certainly looked torn about whether or not to believe the strange, loud young woman or not.

                “Oh Róża, stop teasing them,” Rose chided lightly. Róża splashed her in response and it quickly became a full-out splash war. It was only when Róża declared she was hungry and it was time to eat that the two girls pulled themselves out of the water and dried off, taking their seats on the checkered blanket. The children from the family next to them did gawk at Róża’s legs when she walked out of the water, but she gave them such a snarling expression they daren’t get closer or ask any questions. When she looked away, Rose smiled and gave them a little wave, hoping they weren’t too alarmed.

                Róża didn’t look at them anymore, just sat and tossed her thick, wavy locks and turned to Rose for their meal. Rose handed over Róża’s half and Róża cheered when Rose handed over her bottle of Coke.

                “Cheers,” Rose said, popping hers open and holding it up.

                “Cheers, Rosie,” Róża echoed, clinking her bottle against Rose’s. “To the brilliant escapees of Ravensbruck!” The mother of the two girls and boys who’d been watching them looked over at the sound of Róża’s toast, but neither girl paid her attention.

                “And to all our friends, too,” Rose added before taking a long sip of the sugary dark liquid. God, how she’d missed this.

                “Too bad the Russian bat girl isn’t here, I’d give her a good shove into the water,” Róża commented as she savored her Coke.

                “Irina was two heads taller than you, Róża!” Rose reminded her. “I don’t think you want to get into a shoving contest with her.”

                “I can handle that wench,” Róża scoffed, cocky as ever. Rose just shook her head and bit into her sandwich.

                “Whatever you say,Różyczka,”she said. They ate and talked and lounged in the sun, trying to catch a tan and by the time Róża settled on Rose’s handlebars for the bike ride home, the sun was starting to sink in the sky. “Aren’t you glad you came?” Rose asked as she pedaled along the winding road. Róża huffed.

                “Yeah, alright. It wasn’t so bad. But those little brats next to us deserved a kick of sand in the face,” she said. Rose snorted quietly and shook her head.

                “Oh, Róża.”

**Author's Note:**

> Topielce are Polish water spirits. They're the souls of humans that died drowning and are responsible for sucking people under the water and drowning them.
> 
> I'm so worried I got Rose OOC OTL If anyone has a comment about whether or not I have any sort of accuracy with Rose (or how it could be improved) do let me know.
> 
> [On tumblr](http://imakemywings.tumblr.com/post/77205190902/beach-day-4318-words-by-0rocky417-ao3)


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